


best laid plans (often go awry)

by janie_tangerine



Category: Bastille Day (2016)
Genre: Didn't Know They Were Dating, First Dates, Idiots in Love, M/M, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, briar needs to learn what's dating and what's not, or at least one of them didn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 10:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10534317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: in which Briar doesn't even understand he brought Micheal on adateuntil it hits him in the face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on tumblr a while ago for the prompt _how about briar trying to woo michael? Like he gets that Michael likes to feel wanted and loved and he wasn't supposed to care but he kind of does... and so starts to do nice things and then Michael is kissing him at the end of a night out and oh, that's where this was heading in?_ and... listen, I'm weak okay. Here you go have some fluff. The my very much NOT imaginative title is a common saying for once so I didn't have to steal it from others and they don't belong to me or the sequel would have happened already.

It’s official: Briar is getting fucking _old_.

There’s no other explanation to what’s going on. Either he’s getting old which means he’s also losing some edge (and he should get worried about that, honest) or he’s losing his fucking mind, and the first option would be better for everyone involved.

It _has_  to be like this. Because sure as hell he’s never actually planned to _treat_  anyone to anything in his entire life, not even when he was casually dating in high school before he picked a job that killed any chance he’d have at _dating_. (Not that he minds. He loves his job. He’s good at it, damn it.) Never mind that this isn’t a date. It’s just - _basic decency_ , okay?

Fuck the universe for having put Michael Mason on his path, he thinks as he drives towards that joke of an apartment Michael lives in.

Thing is - now that they’re _official partners_ , and god damn it but he can’t even argue with the higher ups who decided to put them together for good since it’s true that they _do_  accomplish things and he knows they don’t want him on his own if they can help it, he can’t help noticing _things_.

Or better, that Michael has a serious problem when it comes to needing validation from others was a thing that was clear from his file. But like it’s honestly disheartening to see how Michael actually looks like he can’t believe it when someone from the higher places in the food chain compliments him or _something_  like that, or how whenever he mentions casual flings he had it’s obvious from his tone of voice that most of them cared more for his looks than his personality. Never mind that the one time Briar met the guy’s mother it was honestly awkward as hell - it was during a mission in Vegas - and she had kept her distance before saying something like _well I hope you’re not fucking this up, too._ Let’s just say that the look she hadn’t seen Michael send her way was fucking too sad for words. Never mind that Briar always thought he was the epitome of antisocial, not that he minded, but for the love of everything, he _does_  know the basics of having acquaintances you go out for drinks for. The few times Michael mentioned _acquaintances_  it was mostly people he used to sell stolen stuff to. At some point Briar had asked him if he ever went to high school reunions one day when the both of them were slightly tipsy (hell, _he_  goes to his own reunions when he can, even if he never discloses what exactly he means when he says he has a _government job_ ) and Michael had just stared at him and shrugged and said that he never even got an invitation, at least before he had to fucking flee the country.

Briar couldn’t believe someone could have made Karen re-evaluate his own poor social skills. He had drank some more when thinking that Karen _couldn’t_  be here to assess it, and then he had thought about it and decided that maybe he _could_  just… ask the guy out for a night on the town for basic decency.

He really must be getting old.

Anyway. He had made _plans_ for the thing and honestly, it wasn’t anything fancy. Even if he still planned it just in case.

He’d pick Michael up, they’d go maybe see a movie and grab a beer somewhere less seedy than the places they visit for work reasons and he’d pay for it. Basics. If anything, the kid is way better at this job than anyone would have given him credit for and Briar always believed in giving people their due. It’s obvious he can use someone bringing him out for once. Anyway, he had thrown out the proposal before debriefing earlier in the day.

Michael had stared at him like he was some kind of alien before getting flustered and accepting at once and really, who even gets that worked up over _getting a beer together_? Whatever.

He turns the corner and doesn’t even have to park the car or call - Michael’s downstairs already. Briar can’t help noticing that he has a new coat - or at least one he hadn’t seen on him before - and that he’s not dressed in his usual worn-out jeans and boots, but after all he hasn’t dressed like some kind of slacker either.

“Hey,” Michael says getting into the car. “I hope I wasn’t late.”

“I just arrived. Here,” he says, grabbing a copy of _l’Officielle_  and handing it over to Michael as he turns the corner.

“What?”

“We’re going for movies, aren’t we? Pick one.”

“I - I thought you would?”

“Who even has time to check what’s out. I haven’t been to the cinema in _months_ , just pick anything. Possibly somewhere I can park without selling a kidney.”

“Got it,” Michael says, thumbing through the magazine. Briar just drives in the center’s general direction before Michael asks him if he’s fine with some noir retrospective. The cinema isn’t _smack in the first arrondissement_  at least, so he agrees and leaves the car at the first empty spot within walking distance, or at least so his navigator assures him. He still needs to learn the streets, given that they’re stationed here for the foreseeable future.

He gets out of the car first as Michael gets out of the seatbelt and opens the door for him since he’s there - Michael sends him a _look_  Briar can’t quite place but then merely thanks him and Briar shrugs, shutting it back and locking everything back up. Good thing it’s one of the days where there’s free parking so he doesn’t have to worry about paying for it.

“How long before it starts?”

“Some twenty-five minutes,” Michael says. “Why?”

“I imagine it’s not a large cinema or anything, is it?”

“No,” Michael confirms.

Well then. Briar shrugs, heads for the gyros shop just along the road and buys two to go and a couple of bottles of Pepsi, then turns to see Michael staring at him with wide eyes.

“Here,” he says, handing him one of the bags. “Wouldn’t want you to go without dinner.”

“Wait,” Michael says, patting his pockets. “How much -”

“Oh, please, it’s on me. You’d steal it back later anyway.”

“Hey, I only do that if you ask me,” Michael _almost_  pouts, but then he smiles a thin, _happy_  smile and adjusts the bag in his grip. “Thanks, though.”

“You’re welcome. So, what are we even seeing?”

“Uh, _The Maltese Falcon_.”

Could be _entirely_ worse.”Didn’t peg you for a Bogart fan.”

“Hey, being under thirty doesn’t mean I only like movies released after the nineties,” Michael says, obviously pretending to be annoyed. “Besides,” he keeps on, taking the gyros from his bag, “it’s not like I’ve done much else since I came here.”

“You mean, other than stealing things?”

Michael rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his food. “ _Off the clock_ , obviously. You could spend your entire day watching movies here and if you don’t have _close friends_  or anything you’ll learn to like it.”

Briar doesn’t want to know if he’s imagining how matter of fact that tone of voice sounds, but he lets it drop. “Well, at least you aren’t dragging me to see something shitty. Good thing that.”

Michael snorts and eats his food as they walk. When they get there, Briar pays for both tickets before Michael can reach for his wallet and then pays extra care to place it somewhere Michael _can’t_  steal it to put the money back. Michael sends him another look that Briar can’t quite place, but maybe that’s because it’s not often that someone stares at him as if he was too good to be real.

Which is a notion he’s _not_  even considering right now.

–-

They watch the movie from the last row. It’s as good as Briar remembers it (he hasn’t seen it in years, give him a break), the place was half-empty and at least it wasn’t dubbed, which overall gives Michael points at least when it comes to choosing what to do if he does have to go out. When they leave, Briar doesn’t even ask him if he wants to go for drinks but puts it as something he’s decided already - if they have to do something they might as well do it properly. Michael accepts maybe a bit too eagerly (or is Briar making shit up? Who knows) and they end up in the nearest pub that looks… well, _not cheap_. He finds the two of them a booth in the corner and when they’ve both decided what to drink he says he’ll get it for both. When he comes back with their beers Michael is still looking at him _weird_  but it’s not the bad kind of weird.

“Here,” he says, sliding it over.

“Thanks. You sure you don’t want me to -”

“Fuck’s sake, do you think I spend my paycheck on anything else over than basic expenses? I can afford your beer, don’t worry. Nice taste, by the way.”

“What?”

Briar shrugs. “That beer’s pretty good.” It’s an Irish red that he tried out the two times he went to Ireland for _work_  and it hadn’t been too common a brand - hell, he didn’t even think they’d sell it outside the country.

Michael _flushes_  as he takes a drink. “What can I say, my tastes don’t end at Britney.”

“Don’t remind me of _that._  Then again if _that_  is the worst thing one can say about your shining personality, I guess you lucked out.”

“ _Sorry_?”

“It’s _definitely_  your worst trait,” Briar deadpans, sipping from his own glass, and he can see that there’s no heart behind it when Michael laughs and flips him off.

“Thanks,” he says a beat later, after he’s sobered up.

“For what?” The hell would he need to thank Briar for?

“Just - the entire thing,” Michael says, quietly. “I can’t even remember the last time I went out for fun.”

_I could say the same_ , Briar doesn’t reply. Or better, he can remember it, but it’s a long time ago. “Maybe you should do it more often,” Briar suggests.

Michael looks about to say something but then he shakes his head and drinks more beer instead.

“Maybe,” he agrees then, and smiles a tiny bit again, and Briar should _not_  think that Michael should do it more often because it looks good on him. Fuck this noise.

He can’t be thinking _that_.

It has to be mid-life crisis approaching, he thinks, and then sincerely hopes it’s not - he’s nowhere near fifty, damn it.

They get another round which they spend discussing inane things and with Briar vehemently denying that when he’s on the job he tries to pull a noir Bogart impression ( _I don’t talk half as much_ , he says indignantly), and then he tells Michael he’ll drive him back.

“I can take the metro -” Michael starts.

“ _Please_ , don’t be an idiot,” Briar huffs. “At this point we might as well go the whole way, right?”

Michael coughs as he downs the last of his drink and Briar makes nothing of it.

–-

The good thing about Michael’s shitty block is that there’s always parking spots, so Briar finds one just under the door. Good. If only it was the same for _his own_  apartment building, he thinks wistfully. He parks, gets out of the car and opens the door for Michael again before he can do it himself - Michael’s literally _flushing_  as he walks out.

“Are you cold?” Briar asks him as he gets out and leans against the back door.

“Uh, not really,” Michael says, not quite meeting his eyes before looking up at him.

Now there’s that look again. Briar would really like to know what’s going on.

“Everything all right?” Briar asks then - it’s really not normal.

“Yeah. I mean, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“It’s just - this was the first time anyone’s ever actually - shit, this is so fucking embarrassing, but - let’s just say everyone else skipped the first half of the script.”

“… _What_?”

“Right. Sorry, it made no sense. It’s -” Michael stops, shakes his head, then - “Ah, fuck this.”

Briar’s about to ask _what the hell_  all over again and then he doesn’t because Michael’s hands are fisting his jacket and dragging his head downwards and wait a moment is he _kissing_  Briar?

Shit, he _is_. He is and for a moment Briar’s too stunned to do anything. He hadn’t - this wasn’t what he had planned, he just wanted to treat the kid to a nice night out, not to _kiss_  him, but -

But then again -

Oh, _shit_. He has paid for _everything_ , he came to get Michael and drove him back, he’s pretty much done anything according to the book except showing up with flowers or some shit like that, and Michael _did_  mention that he went for a fair number of hook-ups but none of them was interested in anything beyond his looks, didn’t he? And what did he say before -

_Everyone else just skipped the first half of the script_.

Probably, the part where before screwing you actually _treat your date_.

It’s probably a very good thing that he’s a quick thinker because in order to process all of this it takes him mere seconds, and then he has to decide whether he should kiss back or just end it here and now.

Reason says that he should end it here and now because relationships on the job are bad news, they’re just - he’s too fucking _old_  for this, and even if he knows there’s been _tension_  between the two of them it’s just fucking stupid to act on it, but -

But on the other side, Michael looked fucking _hopeful_  while he surged up and slammed their mouths together, and Briar’s never felt the need to do this for anyone else and if he doesn’t lie to himself, well, he knows he gives _entirely_  too many fucks about his _official partner_ , and maybe if he actually brought him out on a date without even realizing he was doing it there has to be a reason, hasn’t it?

Before Michael can assume he got it wrong, Briar reaches out, grabs his face in between his own hands and kisses back.

_For real_. After all, he might be antisocial and not play well with others, but he’s not a fucking virginal pale flower and he knows how to kiss someone, thank you very much. Michael gasps into the kiss before he pretty much melts into it without even trying to gain the upper hand, which Briar definitely files away for future reference (maybe immediate) and Briar can feel Michael’s fingers shaking ever so slightly against his jacket. He moves a hand behind Michael’s back, and fuck it if it’s maybe slightly possessive, he thinks Michael won’t mind that much.

When they part for air and he looks down, he _knows_  Michael doesn’t mind at all.

“Now that makes sense,” Briar says, and good thing he’s an excellent bullshitter and can pretend that he planned it all along. “There’s just a question now.”

“Which would be?” Michael sounds breathless and as if it’s his birthday and Christmas rolled into one. Jesus.

“Do you want me to follow the rest of the script or are you the kind of person who wants to wait for the third date?”

Michael _laughs_  at that but not in his usual way. This one is open and he’s grinning so much it has to hurt. “I never even got as far as the first, done properly. I’m fine with not waiting.”

“Hm. Fair. So -”

“So, are you coming up?” Shit, he even _sounds_  giddy in ways sixteen year-olds do not, probably.

Briar doesn’t say _that was the plan all along_ , first because it wasn’t, and second because it really would cheapen the entire thing.

“Sure.” And he could stop here, but -

Ah well, fuck it.

“By the way, if you don’t want it to be, this isn’t a one time thing.”

Michael’s eyes go slightly wide at that, his grip becoming stronger. “I - no. I mean, I don’t want it to be a one time thing.”

“Good. Neither do I.”

So maybe his heart beats slightly faster as he leans back down and angles Michael’s head just the _right_  way and kisses him again before they can go upstairs (but hey, he has to make a point).

So maybe he’s getting old and losing his edge.

So maybe… it’s not really that bad of a thing, after all.

 

End.


End file.
